


through to After, on to Beyond

by Chromi



Category: One Piece
Genre: Afterlife, Friendship, Gen, How Do I Tag, Post-Marineford, everyone in this fic is already dead, its nice i promise, its not like anyone actually dies on-screen so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:09:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26359246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chromi/pseuds/Chromi
Summary: "He was aware that he existed. That much was certain. On some level, somehow, he was thought and body and substance, yet not quite alive. Yes, that was right, he concluded, he was very much present but also very much not."
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace & Portgas D. Rouge, Portgas D. Ace & Shirohige | Whitebeard | Edward Newgate, Portgas D. Ace & Thatch
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	through to After, on to Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> Re-upload. Originally posted July 2019. Very minor edits made since then.

He was aware that he existed. That much was certain. On some level, somehow, he was thought and body and substance, yet not quite alive. Yes, that was right, he concluded, he was very much _present_ but also very much _not_.

Ace blinked, once, twice, felt his eyelashes flutter against his skin. He had sensation, yet there was no pain. The impact of the lava fist may well have never happened; his spinal cord was intact, his ribs were not shattered, his lung was not obliterated. How?

He looked around himself - he had vision, he realised - taking in the pearly swirling mist of his surroundings. Everything felt insubstantial, like in a dream, almost. A long corridor lay before him, branching out into several arched doorways that he could not see down due to the shimmering mist that seemed to gather more densely in their entrances.

Ace looked down. He had his favorite boots on again, not those flimsy prison-issued flats that he had been wearing when he last checked. His dagger hung at his hip and, upon reaching up, he found his orange hat was sat snug on his head once more.

He frowned, confused; where was everyone else? Where was he? Had he somehow, miraculously, been saved from the very definite death he had been facing? He couldn’t remember anything past thanking his brother and his crew for loving him all this time. What had happened next?

“I had hoped that when I next saw you, you would be an elderly gentleman, my boy.”

Ace turned on the spot at that achingly familiar voice, the voice of a man he had loved so dearly, whose death had been the catalyst for the whole war. Thatch was standing a few feet away from him, beaming at him as if nothing could make him prouder than the sight of Ace. He spread his arms wide, affection radiating from him as he drank in the sight of Ace staring at him.

“My brave, _wonderful_ boy.”

And then it all slipped into place in one breath.

He closed the space between them and grasped Thatch in a tight embrace with a sigh, relaxing into the long-lost and long-missed sensation of being held in those strong arms. Ace buried his face into Thatch’s chest, the agonising months of blaming himself for his death, of missing his best friend so badly it kept him awake most nights, falling away in Thatch’s hold.

“I’ve missed you _so_ much,” Ace sighed; Thatch even smelled as he had in life, that underlying tang of spice that had clung to his clothes still present.

“And I you, Ace,” Thatch’s voice rumbled through Ace where they were connected, making this surreal ordeal even harder to believe.

It made him feel a little giddy, being in Thatch’s presence once again, and Ace could almost allow himself to be taken in by the fantasy that his search for Teach had been nothing more than one of Deuce’s elaborate tales he wove. But he knew.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Ace’s voice was muffled against Thatch. He felt him nod.

“Yes,” Thatch said gently, stroking Ace’s hair affectionately, “by all worldly measures you are indeed dead.”

Ace pulled away slowly, feeling a stab of sorrow and guilt as he thought of Luffy. Of Pops. Of his crew. “They risked their lives for me,” he said quietly, looking up into the green eyes that watched him with such tenderness, “and I’ve thrown it back in their faces. I let them down right at the end.”

Thatch hummed. “I don’t believe they would see it like that,” he said, “not at all.” He moved away from Ace, mist shifting around him. “Come, let’s walk while I fill you in.”

They walked slowly together, pace deliberate as Ace marvelled at having been granted this impossible chance to see Thatch again, to apologise, to spill all the sadness he had harboured and lamented over since his demise. He wanted to cry and tell him how sorry he was for not being there when Teach had struck, how he should have known, should have seen the darkness lurking in the bigger man. But Thatch did not seem to want to discuss something as somber as his passing, instead continuing to smile bright and wide as if all was right in the world.

So Ace started off simple. “So, what is this place? Where are we?”

“This is the After,” Thatch said enigmatically, clasping his hands behind his back as had been normal for him in life. “This is where you choose your final path.”

Ace felt a surge of elation, although knew deep down that his guess could not be correct. “You mean there’s a way back?”

“No, or at least not in the way that you’re imagining.”

Ace looked at Thatch questioningly. “How are you here?” he asked, “and why is it just us two here?”

“Ah,” Thatch said, “yes. I am here because you made it so, Ace. When people die they arrive here, in the After, and they are given a choice to make. The same choice that I am about to give to you. But they need a guide, see, otherwise they’d be free to wander wherever they please without knowing what path their feet are carrying them along. Do you understand?”

Ace didn’t.

“However,” he continued, “it isn’t I who will guide you. I am merely here to greet you, so to speak. Your guide will be along shortly. No, I am waiting for another, although when I realised that you had passed After I knew I had to take advantage of the opportunity to see you while I could. Who knows when my charge will come along?”

Ace was confused. There was someone else waiting here for him? “I don’t understand,” he admitted. Thatch clapped him on the shoulder.

“You brought me back from Beyond,” Thatch said clearly, squeezing his shoulder, “before I was required to come back for my charge. You must have thought of me right at the moment of your passing.”

Yes, that was true; Ace _had_ thought of Thatch as the world had gone black, had thought of how ironic it was that he would be joining him wherever he was now. “I did.” Man, the mind was powerful, if all of this was to be believed. And he did. He knew it as surely as Thatch stood beside him.

Thatch beamed. “You have a choice to make now, my boy. When we die, when we reach the After, we can choose to return to the world of the living as a spirit, a ghost, bound to one person for the rest of their lives. Alternatively, we can choose to pass through the After into the Beyond, where we remain until our chosen living person comes to the After and needs a guide to help them make their own choice - this is what I chose to do. The third option is to be reincarnated into a new life, for our souls to be reborn among the living.”

“And I guess there’s no way to choose going back in time and redoing the whole mess again?” Ace grinned wryly.

“Unfortunately not,” Thatch said gently.

Ace thought for a moment, pondering what Thatch had said. None of them sounded like good options, but he supposed that discovering there was some form of afterlife was better than there being nothing at all.

“Is Beyond—”

“It is where the souls of the deceased rest for eternity, returning to After to act as guides if they wish.”

“And who are you waiting for?”

Ace could see the answer on Thatch’s face before he even spoke. It was one of the three people who he himself would wait for, however long it took, to see once more.

“Pops,” Thatch looked saddened for a moment, “I am waiting for Pops.”

Ace nodded, slowing his pace to a gradual stop. Thatch looked back at him, expression politely questioning.

“Look,” Ace said, “I just want to let you know how sorry I am. You didn’t deserve to die, Thatch. When we found out it was Teach, I left the crew to hunt him down and avenge you.”

Thatch hung his head. “While I am flattered by your loyalty,” he said quietly, “I can’t imagine that that was a good idea, Ace.”

Ace snorted. “Don’t I know it. That’s why I’m here.” He waved this off, hating the mournful look Thatch gave him. “I’m sorry for not being there to stop Teach. You were the best friend I could have ever asked for, you know that, right? You gave me a place in the crew when I didn’t want one, you kept me busy when I just wanted to sulk, you—”

Thatch moved as Ace’s voice trembled and the tears started to form, taking him by the shoulders and pulling him in close once more, hushing him as Ace buried his face into him again.

There was so much he wanted to say, so _much_ to tell Thatch, and yet equally, there was nothing at all. Every funny story he had heard and wanted to tell Thatch before his mind caught up and remembered he never could… Every monologue of grief he dictated to himself while in the shower, caught up in memories of that fated morning… All of his rehearsed apologies that would never see an audience… None of it really mattered now that he was here.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” he sniffed, “not you, not losing to Teach, not this whole war. And now I’ve left Luffy out there against Akainu, and Pops and the crew and—”

Hands, smaller than could reasonably be Thatch’s, smoothed along his shoulders. Ace looked up at Thatch in question, not daring to look behind himself at the owner of those hands. Thatch smiled warmly at him.

“It looks like your guide has arrived.”

He turned with a rush of adrenaline and he knew her in an instant; those freckles, those eyes, that smile and that love that was written into the features of Portgas D. Rouge as she cupped her son’s cheeks in her hands. She was here, standing before him and looking prouder than any woman he had ever seen. She guided Ace’s face down towards her own and gently kissed him on the forehead, sweeping his hat from his head to hang down his back; the tears that had been prickling at his eyes gathered and fell in earnest.

“My son,” she whispered, touching her forehead to his, smoothing her thumbs over the freckles that dusted his cheeks so like her own, “my darling Ace. I have dreaded this day since going Beyond, and yet wished for it just as equally. Look at you, just look at you…”

Ace gasped a sob, unable to say anything. He laid his palms over her hands and felt her touch, knew of her warmth even in the After, and sorrow swept over him yet again. Guilt needled at him as he sought for words of apology. Love for her wrenched at his heart and twisted his insides, constricting his throat momentarily.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m so, so sorry you died for me. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want for you to give up your life for mine.”

“It wasn’t your choice to make,” Rouge said, her eyes flickering to Thatch as he moved away from them, distracted by yet another arrival. “Ace, my love, it was in no part your fault. I knew the risks, and I would do it all again if I had to. I only wished for our child to live a happy life. That’s all I wanted.”

He didn’t know how to deal with her forgiveness. Maybe he didn’t need to know.

“I did,” Ace smiled as Rouge wiped away his tears, “I had a good life. I found a family I love and who loved me despite everything. They were—” his breath hitched, struggling to get the words out, “they are everything to me.”

“I’m so happy to hear that,” Rouge said, and indeed she seemed to radiate happiness and contentment as she held her son close.

Again, a hand to his back. A far larger, far more firm hand than either Rouge’s or Thatch’s. He knew that hand.

Edward Newgate embraced his adopted son as Ace turned, a moan of misery escaping him as he was swept up by the giant. Ace could not talk, could only feel the horror of the shock that coursed through him, the body-wrenching sobs that took over as he clung to Whitebeard. It was all too much - Thatch, Rouge, Whitebeard… Ace could not imagine how he would feel if Luffy or Deuce joined them here in the After, too.

_Not you too. Why, of all people, do_ you _have to be here?_

“All is in hand,” Whitebeard soothed, as if knowing what Ace was thinking. “Marco will lead our crew now. Your brother, Luffy, is under their protection on my orders. They will not fail me.”

He hoped with all his might that his father was right.

“I have missed you so, my son,” Edward said quietly, and Ace was unable to answer, to tell him just how much he had wanted to go home every minute he was away, every second he was alone in the world without the father and crew he had become devoted to.

The thick mist around them seemed to be thinning as Ace let go of Whitebeard, taking Rouge’s hand when she offered it to him. The density within the high archways at the opposite end of the corridor was lessening, allowing a faint light to filter through each of them slightly. The one in the middle called to him, teased along his very soul as Ace glanced over, feeling the draw of it as he knew with sudden finality which path he would choose. That this was the end, the final stop.

“I’ve decided,” Ace said as he calmed, looking to Thatch, “I know what to do now.”

Thatch nodded in encouragement; Rouge squeezed his hand tighter.

“I’ll go Beyond, find Sabo, and tell him to wait for Luffy. There’s no way Sabo would have chosen any of the other options; he’d want to be here for us.” Ace caught Thatch’s eye, only vaguely wondering why Sabo wasn’t here _now_. “If Lu turns up here too soon, we’ll smack him back to life.”

He paused, looking between each of their kind faces, knowing that neither Thatch nor Rouge could tell him of Sabo, neither having known of him in life. He took a deep breath, one that filled him, and pressed on with his choice.

“And then I’ll wait for Deuce,” Ace said, though it came softer than he had imagined through his firm resolve for his brothers, for his ever-loyal first mate. “I’ll be here when the time comes. He… He doesn’t have anyone else waiting for him on this side. Lu will have Sabo, so he’ll be okay.”

Whitebeard’s signature rumbling laugh drowned out any sound that escaped Thatch and Rouge. Ace filled his mind with that laugh, would take the sound of his beloved father and captain through with him to whatever lay Beyond.

“That is an excellent choice,” Thatch said, gripping his arm for a brief moment. “And this is where we part ways again - for now, at least.”

“You’re not coming with us?”

“No. Not yet.” Thatch paused, looking to Rouge as she waited patiently for Ace, expression resolute and set. “I’ll stay here to fill in Pops about everything. You two should go on ahead. I’ll meet you on the other side, OK?”

Ace turned away from them slowly, taking one last, long, lingering look at Thatch and Edward before allowing Rouge to walk him forwards towards those archways.

He should have felt nervous, or at the very least a little curious, but nothing of the sort came to him as Ace walked hand in hand with Rouge through the mist. The tears were gone, the hurt and the loss and the finality of it all had been shed away, leaving him raw and fresh. New.

Ready.

Rouge was a step ahead of him, guiding him gently as Ace crossed the threshold of the middle archway. He blinked, catching her eye as she looked back to him, a smile so dazzling that she could well have been the sun itself as they passed Beyond.

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Ace heard her say, but her voice was growing fainter. His awareness was fading slowly, withdrawing from him like the tide receding from the beach as he was claimed by the Beyond.

Serenity took hold of his senses as the figure of a man swam into view, moustached and smiling wide enough to rival Rouge.

Him.

_Him._

Ace closed his eyes into the bright nothingness, knowing in his heart that he would never be aware of anything but love again, that he would become himself once more when Deuce’s time to decide arrived.

And he knew nothing henceforth.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to fill [my Tumblr](https://chromiwrites.tumblr.com/) inbox with prompts, nonsense, or anything at all! I love to chat TT
> 
> Comments and kudos let me know if I'm doing something right, and I always love your feedback!


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